Day Zero
Page 47
Clotile’s lips parted. “And you thought you were having a fucked-up day?”
I sank back in the seat, drinking. “Not my finest moment.” After that, I’d stomped back inside, finding a towel for my arm and a bottle of whiskey for my pride.
As Evie and her friend—who’d made sure to call me “lowlife trash”—had knelt in the mud to pick up every single page, I’d paced that tiny shack, hating it, hating my new school, hating my existence.
Most of all I hated Evie, all the more ’cause I wanted her so goddamned bad. I took another draw from my bottle to numb the pain—but not in my arm.
Just to make the night weirder, when Evie had been screaming at me, I’d seen things that couldn’t be right. Like something had been . . . glowing on her face.
I shook away the thought, taking another slug.
“Why were you so mean to her, Jack? You’ve never been unkind to a fille a day in your life.”
When I’d first seen Evie and looked into her eyes, for a split second everything in me had gone from full-on chaos to something like . . . peace. Christ, that feeling was addictive. So how was I going to live without it? “She’s got me twisted up inside.”
You doan belong with a fille like that. Maman was right. I was wanting something that would never be.
Damn it, my arm was still bleeding all over everything. I took another swig; Doc wasn’t generous with painkillers.
After losing his medical license for drinking on the job or something, he’d set up a taxidermy outfit in his basement, but ended up splitting the area for an illegal patch-up shop.
He’d nailed plywood over the basement windows to keep the place cool and dark for tanning, which meant it wasn’t exactly sterile down there. The air always smelled like paint, glue, and mothballs.
I pictured the good-natured old doctor, imagining his reaction to my arm. He would tsk over the slash, his ill-fitting dentures rattling around in his mouth, then say what he always did: “Coo-wee! Dat’s a bad one. Boy, doan you know how to run?”
For payment, I brought him any extra gators I caught, dodging the wildlife officers so he didn’t have to.
Clotile said, “Will you finally admit you want that girl for more than revenge?”
I hesitated, then nodded. “Doan matter now though, does it?” There was no way in hell I was ever going to be with her. No way.
I would never kiss her, never take her to bed. She’d never tell me silly jokes and laugh with me. I clenched the throat of my bottle.
Clotile sped up to make a yellow light, then said, “Brandon tried to kiss me last night.”
“You’re serious?” My half brother was used to getting everything he wanted. He had a girl like Evangeline Greene, his for the taking, and he wasn’t true to her. I’d always known he was an idiot—this just confirmed it.
Yet she’d called him twice the man I was.
“I barely wriggled out of his grasp,” Clotile said. “When do I get to tell him he might be my brother?” Maman wasn’t the only Basin woman Jonathan Radcliffe had bedded. But Clotile’s mother couldn’t be a hundred percent certain Radcliff was the father, not like Maman.
Maybe I should’ve sued for paternity. If I had money like Brandon, would I be giving Evie diamonds and looking forward to sleeping with her in a week?
Christ, I’d be counting down the seconds. “Hold off for now,” I told Clotile. “Lemme think on things tomorrow.”
As we drove through the Basin, I gazed out the window. Poverty. Such a dirty word. Those Sterling kids didn’t know what it was like to want. To have this deep strangling need inside so powerful it was like rage.
Mix rage with want. That was me.
“You doan need a fille anyway,” Clotile pointed out. “You’re goan to Mexico soon.”
The second I was off parole. Once I quit school, I wouldn’t likely cross paths with Evie ever again.
My usual restlessness seized me. I needed to get out of the Basin, or I would end up like Maman. “You sure you want to stay?”
Clotile gave me a firm nod. “We got a plan.”
I would send money, and she’d look after ma mère. “I’ve been burning to leave this place, but that girl . . .” Something in me balked hard when I thought of never seeing Evie. She would be leaving for college in two years. Wasn’t like we’d be going the distance.
She was done with me.
And I’d have to show up at school tomorrow or she would figure I’d stayed home with my tail between my legs. To hell with that. I’d go with my shoulders squared and hit on every girl but her.
As Clotile pulled up to Doc’s place, she said, “For what it’s worth, Jack, I liked her.”
I scowled. “’Cause she waved and smiled at you once.”
Clotile shrugged. “More than anyone else did.”
_______________
Doc’s basement lights went out mid-stitch.
Total dark, with a curved needle lodged in the lip of my wound. Feel like a fish on a line, me.
He cussed up a storm. “Damn that electric line. If a dog so much as pisses on the power pole, my lights go out.”
Welcome to Cajun country.
He blindly dragged the needle through. “I got me a backup generator for my freezers. But I can’t see nothing, no. Clotile, can you get to my workbench? There’s a flashlight.”
Something crashed in the dark. “Ow! Non!”
I remembered my new phone. “Here.” I fired it up, giving off enough light for Doc to get to his bench and for Clotile to grab a seat near me.
I sank back in the seat, drinking. “Not my finest moment.” After that, I’d stomped back inside, finding a towel for my arm and a bottle of whiskey for my pride.
As Evie and her friend—who’d made sure to call me “lowlife trash”—had knelt in the mud to pick up every single page, I’d paced that tiny shack, hating it, hating my new school, hating my existence.
Most of all I hated Evie, all the more ’cause I wanted her so goddamned bad. I took another draw from my bottle to numb the pain—but not in my arm.
Just to make the night weirder, when Evie had been screaming at me, I’d seen things that couldn’t be right. Like something had been . . . glowing on her face.
I shook away the thought, taking another slug.
“Why were you so mean to her, Jack? You’ve never been unkind to a fille a day in your life.”
When I’d first seen Evie and looked into her eyes, for a split second everything in me had gone from full-on chaos to something like . . . peace. Christ, that feeling was addictive. So how was I going to live without it? “She’s got me twisted up inside.”
You doan belong with a fille like that. Maman was right. I was wanting something that would never be.
Damn it, my arm was still bleeding all over everything. I took another swig; Doc wasn’t generous with painkillers.
After losing his medical license for drinking on the job or something, he’d set up a taxidermy outfit in his basement, but ended up splitting the area for an illegal patch-up shop.
He’d nailed plywood over the basement windows to keep the place cool and dark for tanning, which meant it wasn’t exactly sterile down there. The air always smelled like paint, glue, and mothballs.
I pictured the good-natured old doctor, imagining his reaction to my arm. He would tsk over the slash, his ill-fitting dentures rattling around in his mouth, then say what he always did: “Coo-wee! Dat’s a bad one. Boy, doan you know how to run?”
For payment, I brought him any extra gators I caught, dodging the wildlife officers so he didn’t have to.
Clotile said, “Will you finally admit you want that girl for more than revenge?”
I hesitated, then nodded. “Doan matter now though, does it?” There was no way in hell I was ever going to be with her. No way.
I would never kiss her, never take her to bed. She’d never tell me silly jokes and laugh with me. I clenched the throat of my bottle.
Clotile sped up to make a yellow light, then said, “Brandon tried to kiss me last night.”
“You’re serious?” My half brother was used to getting everything he wanted. He had a girl like Evangeline Greene, his for the taking, and he wasn’t true to her. I’d always known he was an idiot—this just confirmed it.
Yet she’d called him twice the man I was.
“I barely wriggled out of his grasp,” Clotile said. “When do I get to tell him he might be my brother?” Maman wasn’t the only Basin woman Jonathan Radcliffe had bedded. But Clotile’s mother couldn’t be a hundred percent certain Radcliff was the father, not like Maman.
Maybe I should’ve sued for paternity. If I had money like Brandon, would I be giving Evie diamonds and looking forward to sleeping with her in a week?
Christ, I’d be counting down the seconds. “Hold off for now,” I told Clotile. “Lemme think on things tomorrow.”
As we drove through the Basin, I gazed out the window. Poverty. Such a dirty word. Those Sterling kids didn’t know what it was like to want. To have this deep strangling need inside so powerful it was like rage.
Mix rage with want. That was me.
“You doan need a fille anyway,” Clotile pointed out. “You’re goan to Mexico soon.”
The second I was off parole. Once I quit school, I wouldn’t likely cross paths with Evie ever again.
My usual restlessness seized me. I needed to get out of the Basin, or I would end up like Maman. “You sure you want to stay?”
Clotile gave me a firm nod. “We got a plan.”
I would send money, and she’d look after ma mère. “I’ve been burning to leave this place, but that girl . . .” Something in me balked hard when I thought of never seeing Evie. She would be leaving for college in two years. Wasn’t like we’d be going the distance.
She was done with me.
And I’d have to show up at school tomorrow or she would figure I’d stayed home with my tail between my legs. To hell with that. I’d go with my shoulders squared and hit on every girl but her.
As Clotile pulled up to Doc’s place, she said, “For what it’s worth, Jack, I liked her.”
I scowled. “’Cause she waved and smiled at you once.”
Clotile shrugged. “More than anyone else did.”
_______________
Doc’s basement lights went out mid-stitch.
Total dark, with a curved needle lodged in the lip of my wound. Feel like a fish on a line, me.
He cussed up a storm. “Damn that electric line. If a dog so much as pisses on the power pole, my lights go out.”
Welcome to Cajun country.
He blindly dragged the needle through. “I got me a backup generator for my freezers. But I can’t see nothing, no. Clotile, can you get to my workbench? There’s a flashlight.”
Something crashed in the dark. “Ow! Non!”
I remembered my new phone. “Here.” I fired it up, giving off enough light for Doc to get to his bench and for Clotile to grab a seat near me.
